


Heart Attack

by xpunkstylesx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:45:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6388927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xpunkstylesx/pseuds/xpunkstylesx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George had a thing for his best friend, and everyone knew. The only thing that let him admit it to himself was a little bit of Fire Whiskey and One Direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart Attack

“Congrats on another great win boys!” She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around their broad shoulders, pulling them in for a quick side hug. The twins turned to her, grins painting their faces, a mischievous twinkle in their eyes. She peeled herself away, stepping in between them and falling in step, following a way behind the crowds roaring their way back to the common room.

“We couldn’t have done it without our loyal fans,” Fred admitted with a dramatic flair.

“And without your promise of joining us at the after party,” George finished, his voice slightly more serious than his brother’s. 

She grinned, eager to finally see the Gryffindor Common Room, a place she had only heard about, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

They walked slowly, the groups breaking up as the halls got smaller and smaller, eventually reaching the stairs on which students ran in hopes of reaching their friends, sometimes miscalculating the time it took to race to the other end. The three watched as Ron Weasley raced to catch up with Harry and Hermione, narrowly missing falling to a very unfortunate death. The twins hid a snigger, commenting something about his agility and speed, before continuing forward, gesturing to follow them.

“So what’s the password this week?” She asked casually, hoping to trick them into letting her in without permission, something she’d always wanted to try (although apparently it was against the rules).

“Oh, no,”

“You’re not trying that again,”

“We’re not that stupid.”

“And besides,”

“We had to use enough charms just to get you in tonight,”

“Even with all of us and our consents,”

“And we wouldn’t want to find your charred remains,”

“As a good morning present.”

She shook her head, smiling in spite of herself, and caught George’s watching eye, “What?”

“N-Nothing.” He muttered, suddenly turning pink, his cheeks clashing with his flaming hair. Fred let him lead the way, falling back to walk with her, laughing at his brother’s attempted sprint.

“So, what do you expect?” He asked as soon as he’d gotten his breath back.

She paused for a minute, opening and closing her mouth as each new idea came at her, until she settled for a single one, “A lot of gold and red, as well as lots of Butterbeer, probably a couple of your experiments and at least one person to hit on me.”

“Wow, high expectations,” He replied, smiling as she grinned back at him, knowing all but one of the things on her small list would happen, “But hey, you and George are pretty much a thing now, so we both know who that one person would be.”

Her heart skipped a beat, “And just what the hell are you talking about Fred?”

“Oh, come on, don’t take me for dumb. I see the way you two look at each other,” Fred smirked, “I may feel left out but at least I’m not the one mentally undressing the other.”

She gasped, cheeks flaming, not having realized how openly obvious it must be when she observes George, but decided quickly against admitting it, “I am appalled you would ever think anything like that Freddy. You know George and I are just friends.”

She looked down as she said this, making sure not to give herself away with something in her eyes he was always able to read. They were almost at the Fat Lady, and she was getting antsy in her hurry to try and escape the conversation, so when Fred replied, he sounded like he was miles away.

“If that’s what you want me to believe, fine. But ‘just friends’ don’t look at each other like that, and you know it.”

She gulped, almost risking to meet his gaze when she was pulled out of her reverie by an excited exclamation, “We’re here!”

She looked away from Fred at the last possible second, opting to look at the other relaxed twin, holding the portrait door open. He was waving them in, extending his hand to help Hailey in, which she declined, thoughts still flying around her head. 

She quickly shed the twins, opting for the Golden Trio instead, interrupting their heated debate against Hermione, as usual. 

 

Hours passed and the party was more alive than any she’d ever been to, music still blasting and Butterbeer still flowing. She had by now situated herself on an overstuffed couch by the frosted windows, nursing a Butterbeer and gazing at the vast grounds below, mesmerized by the sheer size of the place, when a boy cleared his throat. She turned her gaze from the window slowly, almost recognizing the authoritative tones in the short noise, and gasped in surprise when her suspicions were proven correct.

“Oliver!”

She reached over, giving him a quick hug and letting a grin mold itself on her full lips, genuinely happy to see a familiar face.

“You made it,” He grinned back, raising his drink in toast, “Never thought I’d see you make it past that portrait but those twins are something else.”

She nodded in silent agreement, hoping to steer clear of any subject having to do with either of them. Instead, she diverted his attention to more pressing matters, like his great win, “Great match tonight, huh?”

“You can say that again,” He agreed between swigs of Butterbeer, “I mean, beat me like a pulp, but bloody hell, it was quite the win.”

He continued on, explaining to her the various moves and attacks they had used throughout the long game, her gentle prodding raising his levels of excitement, until he was basically swinging his cup back and forth, liquid staining the dark red and gold rug in big splotches. From the other side of the room, the twins observed somewhat carefully, Fred trying to win an argument.

“I know you have a thing for her, just admit it.” He urged, nudging George.

“I do not,” He whined, “And like you said, even she says we’re just friends so-”

“Oh don’t be so thick! Of course she thinks that but you can tell she wants more, my God, you can see it in her eyes!” Fred exclaimed, thumping his fist on his knee to accentuate his frustration, although it had not missed George’s notice.

“Yeah, well, what about Oliver?”

“What  _ about _ Oliver?”

“Look at them!” George cried, desperation lacing his strained voice, “They look, you know, like they fit, they belong. Both pretty, smart, relatively rich, mind you, and with brilliant futures. And then look at me Freddy. What have I got to offer her that she can’t find a better version of in him?”

Fred looked back and forth between them, eyebrows scrunching up in concentration, until he reached his conclusion, “Frankly, nothing. Which is why you’re going to down this Fireball Seamus so kindly just delivered and you’re going to stand up and party like a real man.”

George looked at his twin incredulously, not expecting the total put down. Of course, a half assed encouragement was more what he had been waiting for, but the shot was better than any weird reassuring words would’ve been. 

He swung it back, letting the cold liquid burn down the back of his throat, and slammed the small glass down, resolutely standing up to ‘party like a real man’. 

Fred smiled up at his twin, standing up next to him and clapping a hand on his back, “Recognize this muggle hit?”

George grinned and nodded, bobbing his head to his little sister’s favorite muggle band, letting the music relax him until the words hit him. He sang every word with full heart, not desiring to think about his lack of opportunity in the putrid world of dating. But then inspiration hit him, or maybe (probably), it was just the whiskey numbing his judgement just enough.

He spun around moving closer to her and Oliver, catching her eye as he burst out, “But seeing you with him just don’t feel right.”

He fell on his knees, holding her intrigued gaze, continuing, “And I’m like ow,” clutching his chest, “never thought it’d hurt so bad, getting over you-ooh,” spreading his arms out, “And ow, you’re giving me a heart attack, lookin’ like you do-ooh.”

She watched him, a light tinge coloring her cheeks as the words kept spilling out of his slightly intoxicated mouth. Thankfully, someone cut the song off, but by then the entire room had fallen silent, too many pairs of eyes watching her and his every move, brinking on the edge of laughter. 

Surprisingly, Oliver was the first to cut the tension, his easy laugh making every jump. The eyes turned to him quickly, curiosity filling their steady looks. 

He glanced around, laughter dwindling down, only to look back at George, still kneeling on the floor, face as red as his hair, “I’ve known for a while, but mate, I would never like her like that.”

George let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, although his face changed to a monstrous shade of purple. He nodded slowly, shifting his gaze back to her, gauging her reaction.

She met his eyes, letting the room drop away, and extended a helping hand, pulling him up so they could stand face to chest, the 5 inches he had on her suddenly extremely inconvenient. He didn’t make to move away from her, but rather towards her, his hands curling at the base of her neck, making her shiver.

And suddenly the room was in uproar. From every corner chants of “Kiss,” could be heard, echoing loud enough to rustle the heavy curtains. She glanced around, cheeks flaring once again, and slowly turned back to him, wondering what his next move would be.

Before she could even start contemplating, his lips brushed against hers, shocking her but enthralling her at the same time. He pressed a little harder, moving one hand to her hip to pull her closer, and she found her arms wrapping themselves around his neck, reciprocating the pull. 

The room continued the uproar, money changing hands as bets were finally won. As the two finally pulled away, loud cheers filled the room, the party once again resuming.

She kept him close, unwilling to relinquish the sudden hold she had on him, a light smile playing on her lips as she asked, “Would it be safe to assume we’re finally dating?”

“Finally?” He teased, brushing his lips against hers, intoxicated with the feeling, “How long have you been waiting darling?”

She giggled, pulling him in for another kiss, before pulling away last second, a sudden thought occurring to her, “You thought I would seriously pick a brunette over a ginger?”

His smile faltered, unsure if she was trying to catch him in a trap. Yet her eyes mesmerized him more than anything ever had, and there was something in the glint of them that told him there was some truth behind her jokes.

“I was hoping not,” He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close, “But hey, I gotchu in the end."


End file.
